


My Bloody Valentine

by sabby1



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rimming, Shadowhunter!Magnus, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1
Summary: It was supposed to be a standard patrol, so, of course, it went spectacularly to shit.They are lucky they made it out alive.Or The one where Shadowhunters Magnus and Alec get back from a gnarly patrol and end up having sex. On Valentine's Day. Which is coincidental.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 26
Kudos: 205
Collections: SHBingo





	My Bloody Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Bingo Fill for my square: Shadowhunter!Magnus. 
> 
> Clearly, this is a one-shot taking place in a larger universe. I'll get back to that universe at some point. For now... This.
> 
> ###### 

It was supposed to be a standard patrol, so, of course, it went spectacularly to shit.

They are lucky they made it out alive.

Alec’s heart is keeping the beat of a hardcore techno mix, breaths coming fast and shallow as if they can’t quite make it all the way down to the bottom of his lungs.

Magnus is five steps ahead of him, pretending everything is fine and dandy.

Except, Alec can see the way his sashay stutters and how his spine is a straight line down his stiff back. He can see the way Magnus keeps his arms at his sides, hands curled into tight fists to keep himself from giving away the location of his injury.

They barrel right past the turn toward the infirmary.

When Magnus takes the stairs up to the living quarters instead, Alec stays right behind him.

To his credit, Magnus doesn’t even try to ward him off when they get to his room. He leaves the door wide open behind him.

Alec follows him inside, slams the door shut, and draws the Locking and Silence runes in quick succession. Then he leans back heavily against the door and takes a moment to just pull himself together.

Emotions cloud judgement. Boy, if that isn’t true.

His gaze flicks across the room.

It’s still spartan. Standard furniture. Regulation amenities. Shadowhunters travel light. Magnus didn’t bring any personal effects with him, unless you count his collection of colorful shoelaces. He probably won’t bother picking up anything while he’s here.

Right now, it’s a stark reminder. They don’t have forever. Their time is on loan from the Jakarta Institute.

Alec will be damned if he lets some random demon cut it short.

“Take off your shirt.”

Magnus jolts where he’s standing in front of the bed.

“Why, Alexander,” he purrs in a voice like wild honey dripping off a spoon. “I didn’t know you could be so forward.”

On any other day, in any other moment, Alec would be blushing to the ink-black roots of his hair. He’d be stammering like an idiot and folding his hands behind his back to keep them from flailing awkwardly. He would be shifting uncomfortably in his too-tight pants.

Not tonight. Not after what happened out there.

“I saw you take the hit,” he growls through his teeth.

Not close enough or fast enough to do anything, but he saw the demon take a flying leap and land on top.

Magnus’s flirtatious smile falters. His tongue flicks out nervously between his bright pink lips. Their typical shiny gloss has worn off.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

Alec doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Take it off,” he orders. “Now.”

Magnus closes his eyes. The dark lines of kohl around them are smudged, the way they get when he has to wipe sweat from his brow or tears of pain from his eyes.

Alec grits his teeth.

Magnus flinches when he shrugs off his leather jacket and drops it on the carpet. His arms move slowly and he clenches his jaw. His stomach muscles contract when he pulls the shirt over his head like he’s lifting a two-ton boulder with a dislocated shoulder.

“See,” Magnus says in a tone teetering between casual and faint, “All good.”

His naturally tan face looks wan. His forehead is glistening with sweat and his smile looks more like a grimace.

His chest is unblemished except for his runes and the scars they leave behind. The Invisibility rune on his collarbone. The fresh Speed rune that he likes to draw curved around his left shoulder and down over his bicep. The silvery scar just below his left nipple where a Parabatai rune used to be. 

Alec swallows hard as he trails his gaze over every unharmed inch.

“Turn around.”

Magnus tilts his head with a coy look, no doubt trying to cover up the true source of the gleam in his eyes.

“Alexander.”

“Magnus.”

Alec crosses his arms. He’s not going to repeat himself.

Magnus sets his jaw and turns around, slowly.

It’s bad.

The gash is a solid foot long, stretching from just below the right shoulder blade to the center of his back. It has sliced clean through the top corner of the Precision rune there. A bright red canyon between two long lines of blood-smeared tawny skin. No ichor.

Alec yanks his stele out of his pocket and vaults into motion, crossing the space between them in two strides. He draws an Iratze on each side of the gash, swallowing hard against the nausea roiling his stomach. Waits.

The runes glow golden and sink into Magnus’s skin. The bloody canyon closes seamlessly, leaving no trace of the injury that would have otherwise required a long line of ugly stitches and created a nasty scar.

Magnus exhales a low moan as his shoulders sag in relief.

Alec tosses the stele on top of Magnus’s jacket and shirt, presses himself tight against the freshly healed back, wraps his arms around Magnus’s middle, and holds on tight.

“You got lucky,” he croaks. “Any deeper…”

He doesn’t want to finish the sentence. He presses his mouth to the line of Magnus’s shoulder instead, just beside the sweeping curved tips of the Speed rune.

Magnus drops his head back onto Alec’s shoulder with a wordless hum. He doesn’t protest the tight embrace. Instead, he leans into it, pushing himself as close as he can get.

Alec squeezes his eyes shut and suppresses a groan. Nimble fingers dive into the messy hair at the back of his head and take a firm grip, holding him in place.

Magnus strokes his other hand down the length of Alec’s arm and over the back of his hand, lacing their fingers. He forces their linked hands to move, sliding them down, and presses Alec’s palm firmly between his legs.

“I wouldn’t mind getting lucky right now,” he purrs into Alec’s ear.

Alec shivers, half from adrenaline, half from exasperated laughter. Trust Magnus Bane to turn a tense, emotional moment into an open invitation for spontaneous sex.

“If you make a quip about going deeper, I swear.” He growls the empty threat into the side of Magnus’s neck and nips at the skin there.

Despite his words, he doesn’t need any more encouragement to start massaging Magnus through the heavy fabric of his tight black jeans.

Magnus rolls his hips into the touch with a filthy, dark chuckle.

“Would you?”

His hands slide into the back pockets of Alec’s pants, pushing them closer together. Alec bites back an involuntary noise at the sensation. He retaliates by stopping his own ministrations.

Magnus makes a noise of protest until he realizes that Alec’s hands are on his belt.

Pressed up behind him, with both of them facing the same direction, it’s easy to unbuckle Magnus’s belt. Alec pops the button through the hole, pulls the zipper down, and slides his hand inside the gap. His fingers brush over coarse hair and curl around firm, hot skin. No underwear.

“That’s not regulation.” He rumbles the reprimand into the delicate shell of an ear adorned with a silver cuff. Also, not regulation.

“Fuck regulation,” Magnus growls, thrusting into Alec’s grip. His hands are still inside the back pockets of Alec’s pants, kneading and pushing them closer. “Fuck me?”

Alec closes his eyes and breathes through another shiver. His grip tightens and he moves his hand faster, forcing another groan out of Magnus.

“Please?”

It’s still new, this thing between them. They’ve only done it a couple of times. For the most part, Alec is still just guessing at what to do. He’d never thought he’d have this. He’s terrified people will find out. He has nightmares about what will happen to them if they get caught.

He stops what he’s doing, pulls Magnus’s hands out of his back pockets, grabs him by the hips and shoves him forward.

“Oi!” Magnus lands face down on the bed in a graceless flop. “Just because I like it rough, doesn’t mean…”

By the time he looks back over his shoulder, Alec’s jacket is on the floor and his shirt is halfway over his head.

“Never mind I said anything,” Magnus purrs. 

He grabs a pillow, shoves it under his head, and watches under lowered lashes as if Alec taking off his clothes is the most captivating thing he’s ever seen.

Alec rolls his eyes and throws his shirt on top of the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor. He makes quick work of getting naked, like undressing for a shower, not letting himself think.

“Come here.”

He grabs Magnus by the ankles, unties the ridiculous pink shoelaces with their infuriating double-knotted bows, and tosses the ichor stained combat boots in the general direction of where he dropped his own.

While Alec is struggling to pull down Magnus’s pants, thigh holster and all, Magnus crawls away from him on his belly, stretching to reach into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulls back and tosses something on the mattress beside his hip.

“Here.”

Alec’s throat works as he tries not to drool at the sight in front of him.

Magnus is completely naked, sprawled across the sheets with a half-used tube of lube like a wordless invitation at his side.

For a moment, Alec gets distracted by the rust colored stains of dried blood and the broken Precision rune tarnishing the otherwise flawless expanse of his muscular back. 

Then Magnus pushes both arms under the pillow below his head and cants his hips up.

Alec’s not sure what kind of noise comes out on his next breath, but he doesn’t let it get in the way of throwing himself on top of all that.

Magnus’s lewd snicker reverberates through both of them. It turns into a drawn-out groan when Alec shifts and slides down his back, leaving a trail of hot breath along his spine.

Alec’s not experienced, and struggling with staying cool at the moment, but he tries. He places soft kisses and tentative licks on burning-hot skin, distracting both of them from his awkward fumble with the obstinate screw cap on the lube.

He squeezes out way too much of the cold liquid onto his non-dominant hand. Luckily, Magnus is too busy writhing against his mouth to notice.

The first tentative touch of his thumb evokes a hard jerk.

Alec’s thumb slips. So does his tongue. If he lets himself think for even a split-second about what he’s doing right now…

Magnus moans like he’s shaking apart, and his voice actually breaks before he can finish Alec’s full name.

That takes care of any doubts or inhibitions, but Alec has to push the heel of his dominant hand firmly down between his own legs to stop himself from finishing before they’ve really started.

He scrapes his tongue up in a straight line, rests his forehead on the sweat-slick skin in the small of Magnus’s back and takes a few deep, huffing breaths.

Magnus squirms and pushes his hips back.

“Fuck, Alec. Please.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Alec nods, presses an apologetic kiss right where he is, and shifts back.

He replaces his thumb with one finger, then two, and tries to copy the moves Magnus used the first time he did this to Alec. He wants to hear Magnus make that broken sound again, more than anything. 

When it happens, it comes with a desperate shove onto his fingers and a growl that’s just shy of demonic.

“Alec, now. Stop teasing!”

Like he knows enough about what he’s doing to tease. He nearly just made a mess of himself again. Alec chuckles helplessly while he pulls out his wet fingers and wipes them on the sheets.

He drapes himself over Magnus’s back and presses another apologetic kiss to his left shoulder blade.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to.”

Magnus laughs shakily and reaches between them to help.

“May the Angel have mercy on me if you ever do mean it.”

“I…” Alec forgets what he was about to say.

His brain has shut down because he’s inside. No distance left between them. 

There’s hardly ever any distance with Magnus, but especially not here. Not when they’re like this. It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect.

“Oh, Angel,” he wheezes.

Magnus huffs out a labored laugh. “Wrong guy.”

Alec shakes his head, trembling, every muscle tight with the effort to hold still, hold it in, make it last.

“You,” he rasps out. “Only you.”

It’s the truth. There was no one before Magnus showed up. There isn’t going to be anyone when Magnus leaves.

Alec wishes he’d never have to let him go.

Magnus makes another noise like he’s coming apart at the seams. He grabs Alec’s hand, clenching Alec’s fingers between his own, and bucks his hips.

Any hope of making it last flies out the yellow stained-glass window.

Alec can’t be slow or gentle. He can barely figure out how to not topple over when Magnus pulls their linked hands off the mattress and moves them down across his hip.

Alec’s rhythm falters the moment his fingers curl around Magnus. He’s lost to a white-hot rush, the world gone void for one moment of bliss, before he comes back around to the sensation of strong fingers guiding his own in rapid, twisting strokes.

Magnus goes over the edge with a single, shuddering bark, spilling warm, viscous liquid over their tangled fingers.

They do topple after that, mostly because Alec yanks them to the side so he doesn’t just collapse on top of Magnus.

The sheets under them are wet, but Alec doesn’t have the strength or mental acuity to care right now.

Magnus shifts inside his arms as if he’s about to move.

“Stay,” Alec blurts.

Magnus turns around just far enough that he can look at Alec with raised eyebrows.

Their filthy fingers are still laced tightly in front of Magnus’s stomach. It won’t take long before the mess they’ve made between them dries sticky and glues them together.

Before he can sound like a complete idiot, Alec amends his statement.

“Just for a couple minutes.”

Magnus snorts and rolls his eyes. “Or, we could go take a shower. Together.”

Alec contemplates the thought.

“In a couple minutes?”

Magnus narrows his eyes. “I thought Alexander Lightwood doesn’t do cuddly?”

Alec furrows his brows, not sure where that statement came from.

“Remember,” Magnus drawls, “my first day here, you told me to get a teddy bear if I wanted warm and fuzzy?”

Alec remembers. “It was technically your second day, before our first patrol, and I never said anything about cuddling. I only implied that I don’t do warm and fuzzy.” 

“True,” Magnus admits with a shrug. “Of course, that was a lie, too.”

Alec narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Magnus snickers. “Well, once I got you in bed, turned out you are very warm and plenty fuzzy.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Alec delivers the order with a kick from his plenty fuzzy leg.

A rapid-fire knock on the door stops them cold.

“Hot Laces?” It’s Jace, and his parabatai sounds anxious. “Hey, Magnus, are you in there?”

“It’s fine, Jace.” That’s Izzy, and his little sister sounds way too smug. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Don’t tell me they’re fine. Alec’s emotional shit has been all over the place for the last hour, and Underhill said they looked pissed as hell when they got back from patrol. I need to know that he’s okay.” 

“Jace,” Izzy said with a drawn-out sigh. “What is Alec feeling right now?”

A little embarrassed at realizing he’d forgotten to shield his emotions. Hoping his siblings are going to go away. Still kind of buzzing a little bit from amazing sex. Ready to take a long, hot shower. Preferably with Magnus. Which brings him back to embarrassed for a whole different reason.

“He’s…” Jace pauses. “Okay, I think?”

“There,” Izzy says. “You see? And, anyway, don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

There is a distinct pause and a feeling of dawning realization and horror snaps through their bond towards Alec.

“Shit!” Jace curses. “Do you think it’s too late to pick up candy and flowers?”

“At 10 pm on Valentine’s Day? Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Shit.” Jace curses again.

“And that’s why we don’t date mundanes!” Izzy reminds him helpfully.

Their voices fade as Alec’s siblings continue to bicker on their way down the hall.

Magnus’s shoulders are shaking, and his fingers clench around Alec’s as he laughs into his pillow.

They’ve started caking together.

Alec makes a face and becomes acutely aware of the wet sheets under his hip.

“Okay,” he grouses. “They’ve ruined it. Time to shower.”

“Yes, please,” Magnus says as he rolls out of bed and heads to the en-suite bathroom. He stops at the door. “You coming?”

Alec vaults himself out of bed and waits for his Equilibrium rune to kick in before he follows him.

“Yeah,” he says. “Who else is going to help you wash all that blood off your back?” 

Fin


End file.
